


Classified

by swtalmnd



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Porn, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 01:50:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4647753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swtalmnd/pseuds/swtalmnd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fed up with the wait time on MI6's moving crew, Q uses a classified ad to find help moving into his new flat, and he's very surprised at who shows up to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Classified

**Author's Note:**

> I swear this started as a drabble for the Tumblr prompt "posted a joke ad in the classifieds but someone actually responded" and just snowballed.
> 
> If Colin et all seem familiar, it's because I'm stealing from myself again. Q-branch minions are the best minions.

> _Reedy nerd requires muscle to help move house._  
>  _I provide excellent tea and tech support, and_  
>  _will order any takeaway you require._  
>  _High-level security clearance required._  
>  _Txt (020) 7777-7777 to apply._

Q hit post, sending the ridiculous ad to the in-house classified boards in a fit of frustration; with the whole place in upheaval, the usual people who would be able to move a department head's flat as a perk of the job were fully booked with moving the entirety of MI6 instead. His estate agent had finally found a flat he didn't loathe, and now there was no one with clearance enough to move him into it. He was reduced to offering pizza and blowjobs like a bloody uni student.

It was unbearable.

Q ran his hands over his face and closed the tab, calling for more tea. Tea would make it all better, he was certain.

It took all of ten minutes and an emergency for Q to forget the ad completely, and so when his phone went off several times in the middle of navigating 004 out of the maze of sewers she'd found herself in, he ignored it in favour of keeping their asset alive. His assistant kept him in hot tea, his department kept the information flowing, and Tanner provided the extraction team that got 004, her stolen data, and her filthy but functional tech out of there in one piece. It wasn't until he was eyeing the clock and considering if it would be lunch or dinner at this point that he remembered to check his messages.

He opened it to find a text from an unfamiliar number which included a rather artistic selfie of a bare, damp, muscular chest, and a series of messages.

> _Is this enough muscle for  
>  you?_

> _I assure you, my clearance_  
>  _is probably higher than_  
>  _yours._

> _Ah, I see the nerds are all_  
>  _busy bees. Just tell me_  
>  _when and where, and_  
>  _preferably who._

Q blushed at the photo and texted back his address and a time, adding, "barring further nerd emergencies." He did not identify himself, because he honestly wasn't sure if he wanted to discourage the flirting, and most of the field agents had entirely stopped flirting with him when he made Quartermaster.

He'd been feeling rather ego-bruised since, even though Eve assured him it was only because he'd never let any of them score. "They don't want to offend you and they don't know if the attention's welcome," she'd postulated, when she found him pouting in the canteen.

Q's phone buzzed with another text.

> _A nerd of mystery, I see._  
>  _Do I need to bring a lorry?_  
> 

Q sighed and texted back.

> _I've got one checked out,_  
>  _there's just no movers_  
>  _available with sufficient_  
>  _clearance. They're all busy_  
>  _moving other things._  
> 

Q's phone beeped immediately.

> _Just me and my muscles,  
>  then._

Q laughed and sent back a quick, flirty query, enjoying the attention even if it wouldn't last.

> _They're impressive all on_  
>  _their own. Do you prefer_  
>  _coffee or tea? I'm happy_  
>  _to lay in a stock of_  
>  _whatever pleases you._  
> 

The reply made him blush and grin.

> _Shouldn't that be, 'Coffee,_  
>  _tea, or me?' All three are_  
>  _fine by me, I like my_  
>  _coffee strong, my tea_  
>  _milky, and my nerds_  
>  _naked._  
> 

"What's got you smiling?" asked his assistant, Colin, coming over to retrieve his long-cold half-drunk cup of tea. "Are you going to eat today?"

"Just some texts," said Q, hiding his phone in his pocket. "I should eat, do you want to go get us something?"

"Curry or fish and chips?" Colin asked, hand out for the cash.

Q chuckled and gave him plenty; he always bought when he sent his assistant out for food, and Colin always got them something brilliant as a result. "Surprise me," he said. "And get us a coffee at that place where the girl you like works, please," he added, handing over another tenner.

Colin laughed, blushing. "Will do," he said with a wink, heading off to the tea room to get Q another cuppa to tide him over. Colin wasn't that great at the paperwork he was supposed to be keeping off Q's desk, but he was magic at food and tea, so Q considered Colin one of his most valuable minions.

Q took his phone back out of his pocket and contemplated the text.

> _Naked is negotiable once_  
>  _my bed's been moved to_  
>  _the new place, you might_  
>  _not want me once you see_  
>  _me._

> _Nerd that I am, and all._

Q hit send before he could chicken out, and then his fingers added the rider despite himself. He didn't want the flirting to stop, after all. He turned to his actual job and started wading through paperwork in lieu of staring at his phone, waiting for the reply, which meant that he was concentrating too hard on deciphering one of 002's terrible After Action Reports to hear it when his phone went off.

It wasn't until it was time to actually go home and finish packing that he saw the message.

> _Nerd boys are the best  
>  boys._

Q was grinning the whole way home.

* * *

Q didn't let himself answer until he'd eaten a full meal and packed one box of books, and then he opened his phone and let himself smile at the screen like an idiot for a moment.

> _You might not still be_  
>  _saying that when you_  
>  _have to carry all these_  
>  _books._

The phone beeped a minute later, but Q finished another box before checking it. It was an excellent incentive not to linger over the books.

> _You did say you were a_  
>  _nerd, books are an_  
>  _assumed part of the_  
>  _equation. I'm a big, strong_  
>  _field agent, I can handle it._  
>  _And you._

Q smiled fondly and went to make tea, which was a necessity for any labour.

> _Well, as long as you're  
>  prepared._

The phone beeped again twice before the kettle boiled, and the warm feeling in Q's chest expanded and then moved rather lower.

> _I'll be prepared for your_  
>  _boxes and your bed, just_  
>  _in case you can't_  
>  _remember where you put_  
>  _the lube._

> _Are you a toppy sort of_  
>  _nerd or the kind that likes_  
>  _to lie back and make lots_  
>  _of noise?_

Q blushed and put together a pot of tea to calm himself before he could answer.

> _I like things to be mutual,_  
>  _but I admit I'm not nearly_  
>  _as toppy in bed as I will be_  
>  _while we're working._

Q fidgeted with the makings for tea, getting a saucer for the basket of leaves, his favourite big mug, and the sugar and milk all set up. He was just trying to find the best spot to put the spoon when his phone went off again.

> _I'd say I take orders well,_  
>  _but that would be a lie. I_  
>  _do, however, give very_  
>  _good service._

Q snorted a laugh. "You're as bad as one of the Double-Ohs," he said to the phone. "They're all arrogant bastards who know just how charming they can be."

> _And what will I have to do_  
>  _to earn such levels of_  
>  _service? You never did say_  
>  _if there was anything_  
>  _special I should get for_  
>  _food or drink._

The timer beeped for the tea and Q pulled out the basket of leaves and added milk and sugar to his cup before pouring, inhaling the lovely, bergamot-scented steam. Tea was definitely his favourite thing. He took one long sip and put the tea cosy over the pot, then forced himself back out into the living room where his bookshelves loomed.

It took two more boxes for the reply to come in, and Q worried he'd offended.

> _Martinis and moving don't_  
>  _mix, so plenty of tea and_  
>  _water is fine. We'll get a_  
>  _curry or something, right?_

Q smiled fondly, and he was about to answer when the phone beeped again.

> _All you have to do to earn_  
>  _the rest is be willing and_  
>  _interested._

Q's smile widened into a rather wicked grin.

> _Willing, interested, and_  
>  _naked, as I recall. I_  
>  _suspect I can manage all_  
>  _of your requests._

Q packed another box, and another, and in between they exchanged empty flirtation, edging toward sexts a time or two but never going over the line. Q neglected to give any hints about his identity, and when midnight rolled around his mystery mover sent him a sultry goodnight along with a warning that moving was much worse on no sleep.

Q sighed and finished the books, then took his advice and went to sleep. Tomorrow would be a very busy day.

* * *

Q was nervous enough about the outcome of all this flirting that he managed to get nearly everything else packed in bursts of energy, and he was on his seventh cup of tea by the time the doorbell rang. Q answered the phone nervously, though the speakers on their intercom turned everyone into static, mostly. "I'll buzz you up," he said, then hit the button, hoping he hadn't just let a serial killer in instead of his helper.

There was a knock on his door a few minutes later, and Q opened it and then just froze in shock.

"Q?" said the man in front of him, infuriatingly handsome even in a tight white t-shirt and jeans.

"Bond?" said Q in response. "You. You're going to help me move. But you're. I mean."

Bond laughed and pushed his way inside, closing the door after himself. "I am, but I am also bored and not on a mission, so I thought a bit of unclassified sex and a workout would be a good way to spend a weekend."

Q swallowed, blushing. "And do you still want to, erm, either of those?"

Bond stepped in close, one hand going to Q's hip. "If I thought it would get me out of the moving I might skip straight to the sex, knowing it's you," he said, voice low.

Q couldn't resist the lure of the mouth that he'd admired hundreds of times hovering so close to his own, and he closed the gap for a soft kiss. "Moving is still required, and I've already packed the sheets," he said, stepping away. "But naked nerd is still on the menu for afters."

"Brilliant," said Bond, following him into the kitchen, where Q mechanically poured them both tea, milk and sugar in his own and just a splash of milk at the bottom of Bond's. Bond grinned, taking a sip of his tea. "You paid attention."

"It helps me humanise you all if I learn some details, so I'm less likely to treat you like dots on a screen when it's important," Q explained, taking a fortifying sip of his own tea.

Bond looked impressed. "Not to mention being able to mollify and distract us with tea when we're stroppy," he teased, taking a sip of his own tea. "Mm, you used the good Earl Grey, you really were bribing me."

"It's this or wait ten weeks or more for the movers to free up," said Q with a shrug. "The flirting was really just a bonus, originally."

Bond's smile was boyishly charming, lighting him up from the inside. "And now?"

"Now I know you'll be amazing, and I'm a sure thing," said Q with an impish grin. "But I still need to move house, so work before play."

"And tea before either," said Bond saluting him with the cup. 

The silence that settled over them was strangely comfortable, the electric newness of their anonymous flirting replaced by the warmth of familiarity and the knowledge that they still had a job to do. It was a little like the times he'd run missions for Bond, teasing each other on comms until the time came for radio silence and getting things done.

Q finished his tea and let out a sigh of satisfaction, setting the cup next to the pot under its cosy. He stepped forward and kissed Bond again, feeling the heat of the tea on his lips.

"Not that I mind, but what was that for?" asked Bond, one arm going around Q's waist like it belonged there.

"I'm not used to being allowed," said Q, nuzzling behind his ear and inhaling the cologne he'd bothered to wear even today. Perhaps especially today. "I'm used to pointedly not kissing you, in fact."

"Are you, now," said Bond, and Q's heart skipped a beat to hear a hint of surprise in Bond's voice. "Am I usually so alluring?"

Q chuckled and turned his face, getting another kiss. "You know you are, you could charm the pants off Putin."

Bond laughed, full-throated and genuine, and then kissed Q again, this time with enough intent to curl Q's toes. "We should start loading the lorry, if you've already packed your sheets," he said.

Q's willpower wavered for a moment, but he held strong. "Yes, you're right. The cats are trapped in the hall closet, so don't open it. I'll put them in their carrier and take them in the front with me."

"Of course you have cats," said Bond with a chuckle. One more kiss and he stepped away, sliding his empty mug next to Q's, TARDIS clinking against The IT Crowd. "You're a delightful example of nerddom, Q. Let's start with the books, shall we?"

Q sighed. "Might as well."

* * *

The labour was long and annoying, but the kisses and breaks for tea both helped, as well as a late lunch of delivered pizza mid-afternoon when the lorry was loaded. The promise of curry for dinner kept them moving, furniture off the lorry first, followed by lighter boxes and, finally, all those bloody books.

"I'm buying an e-reader after this," said Q, leaning against his hand truck and staring in despair into the back of the lorry. "I swear they reproduced on the way over."

Bond laughed, bringing the boxes over two at a time to stack four onto each hand truck. "There's just the same amount, and you've already paused to set up the cats, so no more avoiding," he teased, though they'd both agreed that having Q make the reassembled bed and get the cats set up in the master bathroom was more valuable than having him help with a few more boxes. "Half a dozen more trips and we'll be able to drink cold water and order the hottest curry you can stand."

"I can stand some pretty hot curries," said Q, sighing. Bond hopped down and they closed the lorry back up, then got moving with the hand trucks. The doorman would watch over the lorry itself, but that was the most he could do for them besides holding the door on their endless trips. Well, and his creative array of compliments for Bond's strength, physique, and generous nature, at least until Q had glared him into silence.

"There's a place around the corner that does them proper hot, India hot," said Bond, hitting the button for the lift. "And before you ask how I know, I live a few blocks over. The area's on your estate agent's list for a reason."

Into the lift they went, and after the floor was selected it was Q's turn to have his buttons pushed. Bond loved to shove him against the mirrored wall here and kiss him senseless, and Q was not about to object. "Are we having curry or dessert first?" asked Q, feeling a bit breathless.

Bond grinned as the lift stopped. "Perhaps we should have an appetiser before curry and proper dessert after," he suggested, leading the way to Q's new front door. 

Q grinned right back. "That is a brilliant idea, 007."

"I'm glad you think so, Q."

* * *

A few dozen more boxes of books later, and Q was feeling about ready to dump the entire contents of his fridge on himself to cool off. He settled for downing half a glass of water in one go, but it was tempting.

"Perhaps we should have our treat in the shower?" suggested Bond, stripping out of his t-shirt and pouring a water of his own. There was a fancy system in the fridge door that would deliver filtered water fridge-cold, tap-cold, or as cubed or crushed ice. Q was already planning ways to modify it, possibly to make ice Death Stars.

Q nodded at Bond, stripping out of his own shirt before gulping most of what was left in his glass. "Cool shower at first, but we can warm it up once I'm no longer dying," he said. He knew he was a splotchy, panting wreck, and he hated it, because Bond was all golden tan and manly sweat and steady breathing, the bastard.

"Don't worry," said Bond, stepping in for a kiss, skin-to-skin for the first time as their chests slid together. "I know how to take good care of my nerd."

"Your nerd, now, am I?" said Q tartly, though he rather liked the sound of it, if he was honest with himself. He drank the last of his water and gave Bond a cool kiss. "Right, then, nerd post-exertion aftercare. Go."

Bond laughed delightedly and downed his own water, then swept Q up in a ridiculous princess carry. Q yelped and flailed and then clung for dear life, despite knowing perfectly well Bond had carried things heavier than himself in the past hour alone. "That's it, just relax," he said, carefully threading his way through the maze of boxes without knocking any part of Q against anything, which was quite a feat given the state of the flat. "I'll get you cleaned up and ready for a treat soon enough."

Q stole a kiss, then stood on slightly wobbly legs when they reached the bathroom. It was big and gorgeous, with a very fancy two-person shower that Q was just dying to put to the test. "Perhaps a soak in the tub before bed, too," he said, fiddling with the control panel until there was a cool rain falling from the shower ceiling onto the slate floor. "How's this?"

Bond shucked his remaining clothing and stepped under it, tilting his face up and looking like an ad for something really expensive. Or really pornographic. "Perfect," he said, eyes closed, hands running through his hair to rinse away the sweat.

"Rather," agreed Q, watching a moment longer before stripping off and joining him. There was plenty of room for him to get rinsed off without interfering with Bond, but that was definitely not the point of this shower, so instead he stepped right into Bond's space and slid his slight body against Bond's broad chest and strong legs. They were almost of a height, especially when Q's hair was on a rampage, and it made it easy to go on tiptoe and kiss that upturned mouth.

Bond mmed and switched his hands to Q's hair while Q's hands made their appreciative way across the planes of Bond's body. Bond tilted his face back down for easier kissing, and Q found himself making a noise suspiciously like a purr at the scratch and rub of Bond's fingers through his hair.

"I knew you'd be fun," said Bond, leaving one big hand cupping the back of Q's head while the other travelled down his throat, chest, flank, and hip. "Responsive," he murmured approvingly at the soft moan his actions elicited from Q.

"Sensitive," said Q, breathless now for a much better reason. Q's right hand curled around Bond's cock, which finished hardening as he palmed it, big enough to explain the man's insufferable ego. "Nice."

Bond chuckled and pulled back to meet his gaze. "Nice?" he said, eyebrow going up.

Q laughed. "You're perfectly aware of how big it is, and your ego is not the thing that needs stroking at the moment," he said, hand doing just as promised and sliding carefully along the shaft of Bond's cock. He kept the foreskin over the tender head, conscious of the extra friction from the water and wondering if he'd remembered to put soap and shampoo in here before dragging Bond in.

Bond moaned softly and kissed him like he was being a very good boy indeed, forceful and hungry and hot. Q's cock got the message, rising up to rub against Bond's hip as they kissed, but Q wanted more than a bit of rubbing right now. He had, after all, been promised an appetiser. "Wait here," he said, moving over to the panel to warm things up a few degrees, the water going from refreshingly cool to just warm enough.

"Oh, that's lovely," groaned Bond.

Q laughed. "I half bought the place for the shower."

Bond smirked. "Well, yes, that, too," he teased, grabbing Q's arse in both hands and pulling him close for a kiss.

Q kissed back with abandon, letting Bond's talented mouth bring him right back into the moment. Instead of returning to his previous activity, however, Q decided he wanted a bigger taste of Bond and sank slowly to his knees. "All right?"

"More than," said Bond, voice rough. 

Water cascaded down Bond's fit body in rivulets, droplets spattering off his erection like artsy, high-end porn. Q didn't bother to wait for any further invitation, closing his eyes and sucking on the tip, tongue and lips peeling back the foreskin to tease around the sensitive crown. Bond groaned and tangled his fingers in Q's wet hair, but didn't try to control him or thrust into his mouth. He was responsive to Q's experiments, making an array of lovely sounds as Q explored the first few inches of his cock.

Once Q had a good idea of what made Bond tick he took a different tack, one hand bracing the base and the other toying with Bond's balls while he started to bob his head, taking in more and more of the length. Bond shivered and groaned again, and this time his hips did rock just a little, strong thighs flexing in time with Q's movements. Q let himself enjoy the entire sensual experience from the solid, salty cock in his mouth to the warm water running over both their bodies. He concentrated on the moment, on simply sucking and swallowing, and it wasn't until Bond's sounds took on a more desperate pitch that he broke out his repertoire of tricks. Q took the head fully into his throat; he flicked it with his tongue on the out stroke; he scraped ever so lightly at the bunched foreskin with his teeth. Every little bit of pleasure he could add, he did, from the twist of his wrist on the upstroke to the tease of his fingers behind Bond's balls.

After that it was a foregone conclusion, though Bond did manage to gasp out a warning before spilling into Q's mouth.

Q gave it back to him in a messy, rain-wet kiss, standing on slightly wobbly legs. "Delicious," he teased, arms around Bond's shoulders and his own erection rubbing into the rough hair around Bond's softening cock.

"You'll taste better," growled Bond, pushing Q back against the shower wall, which had fortunately warmed to the same temperature as the water. "All right?"

"More than," said Q, sounding needier than he'd intended.

Bond growled again, this time just a hungry sound, and kissed him hard. "Cheeky," he said, taking his time to kiss down Q's neck, bite at his collarbone, and pause for an excruciatingly long time at his rather sensitive nipples.

It wasn't until Q ground out, "Bond, please!" that he deigned to move on, finally kneeling down in front of Q's needy cock.

Rather than copy Q's tease, Bond sucked down his full length in one swallow, then pulled off slowly, expression smug. He then swirled his tongue around the head before doing it again, and again, finding some new way each time to tease before giving Q just one good suck. Q thought he might go mad, and he was helpless to hold back the second, "Bond, please!" that escaped between moans and whimpers.

Bond pulled off again and grinned. "You only had to ask," he said, then started sucking properly, big hands braced on Q's hips, holding him still while his thumbs teased the sensitive valleys from hipbone to groin.

It didn't take long at all for it to be Q's turn to moan a warning before spilling into Bond's greedy, talented mouth. Q sank to his knees and kissed Bond there on the shower floor, sharing the taste and wonder of it all.

"Your mouth is as lethal as the rest of you," Q panted between kisses.

Bond laughed. "I'm going to take that as a compliment," he said, not one whit less arrogant -- but just this once Q was willing to admit that he'd earned it.

* * *

"Should we eat there or get takeaway?" asked Q, towelling himself off and glad all over again that he'd labeled the boxes well. They'd cleaned up lazily once Q recovered from his orgasm, and Q was feeling more than ready for some actual food.

Bond gave him a surprised, pleased look. "We could eat there, but I only brought one change of clothes."

Q laughed and kissed him. "I'll unearth the washing powder if need be, but I wasn't planning to make you unpack later. Just don't spill curry on yourself, and you'll be fine for morning."

Bond huffed. "As if I'd be done in by a mere curry," he said teasingly, looking relieved.

Q couldn't help but wonder if he'd thought he was being sent off, or wouldn't be welcome to sleep over, but that was ridiculous. Bond was far too self-assured to think Q wouldn't take every bit of him he could get. "Let's see if I can unearth something so I don't have to go bare-arsed," he said, heading into the bedroom. Bond's little overnight bag was at the foot of the bed where it'd be safe, and the cats were fast asleep in the centre of the bed; Q would let them out to explore the rest of the flat later when he and Bond wanted privacy, but for now just the bedroom and bathroom were open to them.

"This one says clothing," said Bond, glancing around. "You don't have a wardrobe box?"

Q laughed. "You've complained about the state of my suits often enough, did you really imagine I'd bother?" he teased, finding a box cutter and slicing open the tape.

Bond hefted the box into the walk-in closet and began to sort through it, leaving Q to open the next one and drag it in after. "You should take better care of your suits," groused Bond, finding a couple of them wrapped around their hangers.

"Maybe," said Q with a shrug, though they both knew he wouldn't. "No one much minds if I'm rumpled but you, anyway."

Bond chuckled and pulled him in for a kiss. "You'll look like I've just rumpled you if you wear one of these," he said, gesturing to the row of rescued suits now hanging neatly.

"I don't mind," said Q smugly, stealing another kiss. "That way they won't hit on you as much."

"Mm," said Bond, sounding amused, "Let's find you some socks."

They rummaged about and eventually got not only a whole outfit put together but most of Q's clothing unpacked in the process. "You're welcome to help with any unpacking you like, by the way," said Q, watching in baffled amusement as Bond -- still naked -- sorted his sock drawer by type and colour. "Same terms as the moving, though possibly more breaks."

Bond looked up and then flushed and grinned. "Maybe I will, they're pretty good terms," he said, standing. "Sorry, I know you're hungry."

"The view alone is worth the wait," teased Q. "But you might need trousers for dinner."

Bond huffed a laugh and stole another kiss, then went to the bedroom to dress. Q followed him out, getting his clothing put together and finding keys, phone, and wallet. "You don't mind going out, do you?"

"No," said Bond, dressing with military efficiency in well-cut trousers and shirt, rolling his sleeves up and looking impeccably fuckable. "It just surprised me that you'd want to."

"Is this about nerd laziness, or being seen on a date with you?" asked Q curiously. "Because I am a lazy nerd, but I'd love for people to think you'd actually date me."

Bond laughed, but there was a strange edge to it. "Well, all right, then." He sat and got his socks on, then gathered Q up for another kiss. "They might think you'd date me, too, after this."

Q snorted and licked his nose playfully. "Every nerd in Q-branch would date you, Bond, even Divya, and she's not too into men."

"Well," said Bond, looking a bit more smug, "One nerd at a time."

Q rolled his eyes and led him out of the bedroom, door firmly shut to keep curious kitties contained. They found their shoes by the door and headed out, bantering back and forth while they walked to the little restaurant. The host recognised Bond and took them directly to a table. A glance around showed a few familiar faces, no one from Q-branch but definitely a few people from Six. "I guess you were right about the neighbourhood," said Q, sitting.

Bond smiled and sat with him, but it was wry. "I'm sure they'll believe if you say it's between-"

Q shut him up with a soft kiss. "It's a date, James Bond."

"All right, then," said Bond, sitting back and smiling shyly at Q. Somewhere between the first kiss and the last, something had shifted and Q no longer felt like just another notch on Bond's bedpost -- it was clear that Bond cared what Q thought of him, and was working hard to keep from offending.

"You know, even if I do get a reputation from this, I'll still replace the guns you lose," Q said, opening his menu.

Bond chuckled. "Well, that's all right, then," and that was the matter settled, at least for now. 

Q started talking to him about the food and they ordered enough to please even Q's rapacious appetite. He had very little in his cupboards aside from milk for tea and food for the cats, and was excited to have a proper dinner cooked by someone else. He'd gone with the plan of eating everything so he didn't have to move it, which had resulted in a few odd meals but much less to box up in the kitchen.

Once their food was ordered they ended up talking about guns of all things, discussing the reasons for Bond's strict preference for the Walther PPK 9mm short, and Q's other favourites that were in the same family. Their conversation was pleasantly technical without running aground on jargon, because Bond was smart enough to know most of it already and willing to ask for clarification when he didn't. Q wouldn't talk about his modifications much here in the restaurant, but he promised once they were somewhere secure he'd show Bond a few things he had in the pipeline.

The food was good, and once they ran out of gun talk they moved on to culinary preferences, Bond telling tales of meals in faraway lands while Q reminisced about his favourite London restaurants, of which this was on its way to becoming one. They stayed for sweets and when they walked back, Q slipped his hand in Bond's quite casually. Bond shot him a surprised look, and Q leaned in for a soft kiss. 

"This was a nice date," said Q.

Bond grinned. "It was, wasn't it? And hopefully we'll get lucky after," he teased.

"Oh, yes, I'm very invested in messing up my nice clean sheets now," said Q with an answering grin. "Everything about today's been a pleasant surprise, except the actual labour."

Bond laughed. "That was just as tedious as we both knew it would be," he agreed. 

They nodded to the doorman on the way in and kissed in the lift, Q taking over this time to press Bond into the mirrored wall. "Do you like to be fucked sometimes, James?" he whispered in Bond's ear.

Bond nodded, though it was a little hesitant. "Sometimes."

Q nuzzled until they could share another kiss. "Would you like that tonight?" he asked, tone gentler, offering.

The lift opened on their floor and Q took James' hand, taking them to his new front door.

Bond licked his lips, waiting for Q to let them inside, and then pulled Q to him, leaning back against the door, echoing their interrupted kiss. "I think I would, you don't mind?" he said, that strange shyness back in spades.

"Of course I don't mind," said Q, kissing him. "It was my idea," he teased further, hands moving to Bond's body, tugging his shirt out of his trousers and smoothing over the warm skin beneath. "I guess you don't get to bottom a lot, but I like both just fine."

Bond grinned, kissing back. "I don't, actually, even the men expect me to top," he confessed.

"Then we'll both get a treat," said Q. He paused to arm the alarm, tuck his shoes away under the side table and deposit his keys and wallet on it, though the phone would have to go into the bedroom with them, as would Bond's. National emergencies trumped even really good sex, sadly.

Bond put his own things there, then sighed. "I don't suppose you've got a charger for this?" he asked, brandishing his phone.

Q chuckled. "Of course I do, come on," he said, leading Bond through the maze of boxes. Q unplugged the small tablet that had been resting on the bedside table and plugged in both their phones, glad he insisted that all the tech they issued used standardised charging ports. "There we are," he said, turning to find Bond had shucked his kit while Q had been fiddling.

"Here we are," said Bond, stalking up to give Q a demanding kiss. He brandished the bottle of lube he'd fished out of his overnight bag and grinned. "All ready?"

Q kissed him again, delighted at his enthusiasm. "Just let me strip off," he said, laughing when Bond set the lube down and began to help. Between them they got Q's clothing removed in short order, and they slid together between the cool sheets.

"Oh, this is a lovely bed," said Bond, rolling onto his back and pulling Q on top of him. "Just the right firmness," he teased, thrusting his hips against Q's. His cock was hard already, and the feel of it sliding along his length brought Q's erection to full mast.

"Just perfect," agreed Q, kissing Bond again. "The sort of bed you could come back to, I hope," he said.

Bond growled softly and pulled him down for a fierce kiss. "Definitely," he said, then turned to retrieve the lube and a condom as well.

"I'll take that as a hint," said Q, his voice a little rough at Bond's eagerness. It was just like the man to go full bore into anything once he'd decided to do it, and Q for once was happy to be dragged along on the adventure.

Bond grinned and opened the lube, getting his hand slippery with it and then wrapping it around Q's cock. "Something like that," he teased.

Q groaned and took the bottle, slicking up his fingers and using them to open Bond up. He was tighter than Q expected, but relaxed with kisses, coaxing, and patience. Bond got the condom onto Q and more lubricant on that, and then lay back and let himself be pampered, which made Q determined to do his level best for the honour of nerds everywhere. Not to mention for Bond, who deserved to be taken care of as much as anyone. 

Every time Q started to kiss down his neck or move his mouth elsewhere, though, Bond tugged him back up for another of those drowning kisses, and after the third time Q stopped trying. He let himself be content with giving Bond just what he wanted, endless kisses and a slow, thorough fingering, keeping it up long past when Bond's body felt ready enough.

"Q," said Bond, breaking their long string of kisses.

"James," said Q, perfectly aware of what Bond wanted.

Bond let out a huffed, warm laugh and kissed him again. "Fuck me if you're going to, you big tease."

"Not even a please," said Q, sitting back and pulling his fingers out, sighing a little to give up exploring the silky heat inside Bond that he'd been rather enjoying.

"Please," said Bond, face openly needy now, and Q's chest tightened.

"Yes," said Q, kissing Bond again, getting his cock into position and slowly pressing inside. Bond was still tight enough to give them both a surge of sharp pleasure as their bodies connected, and Q drank his moans in another kiss.

Q couldn't seem to stop kissing Bond, shifting Bond's legs until it was easier on both of them, until he could get leverage enough to thrust the way they both wanted, hard and deep but not too fast, not yet. They passed the sounds of their pleasure back and forth in the endless kiss, bodies moving together slowly in a rhythm as inexorable as waves pounding away at the shoreline. Q let himself drown in it for a good long while, giving all of himself to Bond and to pleasure.

Q changed their pace slowly, shifting their position until Bond gasped at the height of one thrust. Then he repeated the motion again and again, faster and harder until it was Bond that broke first, crying out against Q's mouth, arms tight around his shoulders as he came. The bright smell of oceans filled the heated space between their bodies, and Q felt each pulse of Bond's cock, echoing it with a thrust of his own hips. He rode out the waves of it, waiting until Bond's pleasure had spent itself before shifting their position again to better seek his own.

Q's thrusts now were short and sharp, his head thrown back and face bared to Bond as he brought himself to orgasm in the tightness of Bond's body. He came harder than he expected, crying out as it washed over him, full of warmth and tingling pleasure and even a wash of real affection for the delightful man who'd let him do this, have this tonight. "James," he said, eyes blinking in the light, head dipping down for another heady kiss.

"Q," said James wryly, between kisses.

Q chuckled. "I like Q better than my name," he said pulling out carefully and disposing of the condom. "Does it bother you?"

James tilted his head, then shook it. "If that's what you really prefer, then no."

"I earned Q," he explained, eyes on Bond's face while his hands went through the motions of cleaning them both up with the hand towel he'd left out. "Q is hard work and intelligence and trustworthiness."

James pulled him down for a warm, sweet kiss. "Q it is, then," he said.

Q curled up against him, tugging the sheet up over them for now, though he thought he might still want that bath. "You always seem so proud of your name, the way you toss it out there whenever you can."

James chuckled. "007 is the designation for a killer, but when I'm in the field I feel like James Bond is the best of me."

Q kissed him again. "Well, in here you've been the best I could imagine," he said, half flirt and half serious. "You're always a surprise, and today it was all pleasant ones."

Bond chuckled. "I'll try to keep up the good work."

* * *

They ended up falling asleep soon after and having their bath the next morning when their aching muscles insisted, which led to handjobs in the bath and a leisurely breakfast at another local restaurant with which Bond was familiar. Q continued to give him shameless affection in front of everyone, because he wanted to, and because it made Bond glow in a way Q hadn't even realised he could.

"So," said Q, as they headed back home fully fortified for the day, "when do I get to see your flat?"

Bond chuckled wryly. "Maybe after the maid comes on Thursday," he said. "I haven't been keeping up."

"Do you use Six's service?" asked Q curiously, nodding at the doorman as they went into his building. He was already quite pleased with the improvement in his living arrangements, even if he would have to drive the van back to the MI6 carpool in Monday commute traffic.

Not to mention all the unpacking.

"Yeah, they're pretty good," said Bond with a shrug. "Better when you're not constantly buggering off for weeks or months at a time, I expect."

Q chuckled. "I won't have that problem, I'm barely rated for field work and have no intention of leaving London if it can be avoided," he said. There was someone else in the lift this time, and Q winked at James in lieu of their usual snog.

"Then I'm sure you'll find them amenable," said Bond dryly. "I can help you unpack a little, if you'd like to do dinner again, but I shouldn't stay tonight."

"Oh," said Q, finding himself disappointed, despite having already gotten more of Bond's time than he'd expected. "All right, if you like."

Bond followed him into the flat, then crowded him against the door for a greedy kiss. "I'd be seen leaving on Monday morning, I didn't think you'd want that much gossip."

"I don't mind the gossip," said Q honestly, "but I will have to drive the lorry back, there's no one to pick it up."

Bond laughed. "We'll see how the day goes, then, maybe I'll let you see my dismal mess after all so I can grab some fresh clothes."

Q beamed at him, pulling him in for a kiss. He knew it was a terrible idea to get attached to a Double-Oh agent, especially in this situation, but at the same time those glimpses of Bond's underlying loneliness kept pulling at Q's heartstrings. "Sounds like a plan, then," he said.

They kissed a bit more and then broke apart to make tea, comfortably quiet except for a few words here and there. They unpacked in the kitchen while drinking the tea, loading up the dishwasher and starting it running once it was full, putting Q's spices and staples away so his cupboards were slightly less bare, and getting the rest of his small appliances set up, of which there were a possibly absurd amount.

"I should've known you'd like kitchen gadgets," said Bond, pulling yet another one out of its wrapping and passing it over.

"I like altering them, it's a hobby," said Q with a shrug. "I usually go for improved efficiency, though sometimes I also add function."

"Of course you do," said James, snuggling up for a kiss. "Do you know where your bins are? I can take some of the boxes down once we're done in here."

"I really don't, we'll have to ask the doorman," said Q with a chuckle. "I was thinking I might donate them back to Six anyway, just put them flat in the back of the lorry when I return it."

"That's actually a good idea," said Bond. "We can fill one or two up with the clean packing paper, too."

"Reuse is always better than recycle," agreed Q, kissing him again. "Let's finish up the kitchen boxes and do that, and then we can order takeaway for lunch. I fancy more pizza so I can eat the leftovers later this week while lamenting once again over my book habit."

Bond chuckled. "Sounds good," he said, going back to the box he'd been excavating.

Q started explaining some of his more interesting mods to Bond as they worked, and Bond began to fill one of the empty boxes with clean paper, so that all they had to do at the end was break down and stack the other empties. And, of course, order two huge pizzas, plus some other random nibbles. Q was perfectly aware of his own terrible shopping habits, so the more food he laid in that he could have cold straight out of the fridge, the more meals he'd actually eat.

Bond made himself useful once again by knowing a good pizza place, though there was a moment of confusion calling it in and explaining that yes, it was Bond, but no, he didn't want it delivered to his flat. Eventually it all got sorted, though, and Q pushed Bond against the counter with a grin.

"So," said Q, hands slipping up under Bond's t-shirt. "What shall we do while we wait for our pizza?"

"I don't think they're that slow," said Bond with a laugh, but he kissed Q greedily anyway. "I don't think I have enough cash for a tip that will cover catching us in the act."

Q laughed delightedly. "It's good you want to take your time with me," said Q, kissing him again. "I thought perhaps for our mid-afternoon break, you'd bend me over one of these counters."

Bond groaned and kissed him hard. "I've been eyeing that lovely arse of yours for ages."

"I'd hate for you to miss out," teased Q. "As I said, I like it when everyone's enjoying themselves, however that happens."

"I do enjoy you, Q," said Bond, hands coming up to cup Q's face, turning the moment from playful to intimate.

Q kissed him as sweetly as he deserved, sliding his arms around Bond's waist to hold him close. "I enjoy all of you, James," he said softly.

"Well," teased Bond, hands sliding down to rest on the small of Q's back, "you don't enjoy it when I lose my equipment."

Q huffed. "No, I very much do not," he said, his indignant tone only mostly feigned. "You, 007, are a menace."

Bond chuckled wickedly. "It's my job to be a menace," he said, cockiness returned and that fleeting moment of intimacy over. "I'm very good at menacing."

"Of course you are, dear," teased Q, rubbing noses with him. "You're a positive terror, all of Q-branch is in fear of what you'll do to their precious tech next."

That made Bond laugh delightedly, and kiss Q again in a way that warmed him to his toes. "I should take those boxes downstairs," said Bond, after a few more of those lovely kisses.

Q sighed. "So virtuous, Mr. Bond," he said, but he stepped away after one more soft kiss. "I'll be sure not to start anything too fun without you."

"See that you don't," teased Bond, taking Q's spare keys and as many boxes as he could readily handle. Q cleaned a couple of plates in the sink and made sure there were serviettes and plenty of cold water to hand, and then went back to start some laundry while he was being virtuous.

Bond came back a few minutes later accompanied by the smell of pizza, and Q emerged from where he'd been poking through his boxes of linens to see him stomping into the kitchen.

"Something wrong?" asked Q, coming up behind him and offering a kiss.

Bond immediately relaxed and kissed Q softly. "Sorry, I just saw Normington downstairs, they called my phone to tell me the doorman had our pizzas."

"Ugh, he is such a fucking prat," said Q, kissing Bond again. "I trust Ancel didn't give you any trouble?"

"No, he definitely remembers me after that tip you gave him yesterday for watching the lorry," said Bond with a chuckle. "And seeing me go by about a hundred times since."

"So Normington said..." Q prompted, moving to open the boxes and serve himself a slice of each pizza, silently inviting Bond to get his own.

"Something stupid which I won't repeat, as it insults us both," said Bond, moving in to get food for himself. "He overheard Ancel asking me how a skinny guy like you can eat this much pizza."

Q laughed. "I hope you told Ancel we'd burn it off," he said, stealing another kiss. "I saw him eyeing you."

Bond chuckled. "He just likes to flirt, I'm sure it gets him better tips from the right people. Normington did not get any flirting, I noticed."

"He doesn't deserve it, he's a toad," said Q. "No amount of kissing up will turn him into a prince, either."

Bond chuckled. "I bet he never tips, and then complains to the other tenants whenever possible about the terrible service."

"Well, if he tries to malign your virtue at work, I'll just lock up his workstation at random intervals until he repents," said Q. He shoved a big bite of pizza into his mouth and let out a moan of pure pleasure. "This is amazing, you are definitely earning my arse."

Bond nearly choked on his own bite of pizza and had to spend a moment drinking water and glaring. "It's not my virtue that he was maligning," he said darkly.

Q assessed Bond's expression and tone, and then it dawned on him. "He called me a Bond Girl."

"What does that even mean?" said Bond, offended all over again on Q's behalf. "You're clearly not a girl."

"Well, I'm concerned for neither my virtue nor my reputation," said Q dryly. "You know exactly how much man I am, and Normington can go back to crying while he masturbates without either of us paying him any further mind."

Bond glared, then pointedly ate a big bite of pizza before answering. "Stop trying to make me choke on my food."

Q smirked right back. "I seem to remember you having much better oral skills than that."

Bond shook his head and gave him a soft kiss. "So, does this mean you know what a Bond Girl is?" he asked.

"Not going to let that go, are you?" said Q. At Bond's glare, he sighed and explained. "You've got a reputation for one night stands, broken hearts, and women who try to murder you the morning after, often literally."

"Well, you're clearly not a Bond Girl, then, unless this has all been a rather poor attempt at suffocating me with pizza," said Bond dryly, shaking his head. "I can't believe they have a name for it."

Q moved in and kissed him softly. "Men like Normington can only envy you for the life they imagine you lead, instead of seeing the man you really are."

"I'm not sure I needed the mental image of Normington trying to pull you," said Bond, making a face.

Q laughed. "As if he could," he said with dignity. "You're an exception all around, James."

James grinned and sidled closer for another kiss. "I am exceptional, it's true," he teased.

Q rewarded him by feeding him a bite of pizza. "I'm thinking of tackling the books next, if I get them all onto shelves and get rid of the boxes, I can rearrange later and it won't be so claustrophobic in here."

Bond accepted the change of subject, and they discussed Q's plans for settling in and fed themselves and each other. Q also mentally plotted what difficulties he could introduce into Normington's life without it being traceable to himself or his minions, and how he could get a recording of the man all frustrated and red-faced to send to Bond to cheer him up on his next mission.

They made another pot of tea and put the leftovers in Q's mostly-empty fridge, then got hands and faces cleaned and themselves back to work. They actually managed to get Q's books not only on the shelves but vaguely in order, chatting all the while about which ones he had and hadn't read, and which ones Bond had read. Q was pleasantly surprised at the overlap in their reading tastes, and he even agreed to loan Bond a book on the condition that it came back unharmed on pain of unnamed vengeance.

"Let's be bad and leave the boxes for later," said Q, when he saw Bond gathering them all up for a trip down to the lorry. "I'd like to try that counter out for comfort, if you're still up for it." He waggled the bottle of lube he'd retrieved when he checked the laundry.

Bond grinned, dropping the boxes by the door. "You have the best ideas."

Bond followed Q back into the kitchen, where Q made a show of trying out this and that counter, and finally he moved a few appliances off one and bent himself over it fetchingly. "I think this works, don't you?"

Bond laughed. "No one would believe me if I told them you were like this," he said fondly, coming over to fit himself behind Q. "Can't kiss you like this, but it'll get the job done."

"You can kiss me after," said Q, giving a little wiggle. "And they haven't earned the right to see me like this."

"I'm happy to be in elite company, then," said Bond, hands smoothing down Q's body, slipping around the front of his trousers to undo the fly and slide them and his pants down to his thighs. "Need a towel or something?"

Q gave an experimental rub against the counter and sighed. "Yeah, best do, the edge here's a tad sharp."

Bond dropped a kiss on one cheek and said, "Back in a tick, love."

Q smiled to himself and shifted, making sure he was posed as delectably as possible for Bond's return. The granite was warming up beneath him well enough, but the decorative edge on the counter was poking into his bits in entirely the wrong way to be fun.

Bond's footsteps returned at what Q thought might be a jog, stopping suddenly in the doorway. "You are amazing, Q," he said affectionately, coming in and handing Q the towel. Q took a moment to get himself arranged with it still folded as padding, and Bond took that opportunity to drop to his knees and start kissing Q's bottom, one cheek and then the other, hands stroking his thighs below.

"If you're thinking what I think you're thinking," said Q, feeling a bit breathless, "then I'd very much like you get on with it."

Bond laughed and his strong hands came up to spread Q's cheeks, and that wicked tongue swiped over his entrance. "Is this what you were hoping for?" he asked.

"Ye-es," said Q, stuttering a little as Bond's tongue went properly to work. Bond's mouth continued to be amazing, teasing and kissing, licking and even using his teeth gently, working at Q's entrance until his knees nearly gave out and he was gasping for more. Bond gave it to him, two fingers and then his thick cock, and it felt so good to be able to splay across the counter and rut into the precome-soaked towel. Q had loved topping Bond, but he loved this, too, letting himself receive without worrying too much about the other person for a little while.

Bond's hands held Q's hips at the right angle, and Bond's lips moved across Q's shoulders and whispered encouragement, while Bond's cock worked its magic inside him, delicious friction punctuated by sparks of pure pleasure. Q wasn't sure how long he lasted but he suspected it wasn't very much time at all before he was coming into the towel, crying out, trying to rut back into Bond.

"That's it, fuck, you're lovely when you do that," murmured Bond, still fucking him. His rhythm changed, angle shifting so his movements were less for Q and more for Bond, quick and rough. Q moaned and writhed, sensitive cock sliding through his own come, but it felt amazing to let Bond use him this way after Bond had given him such a glorious orgasm. Bond didn't take too long, anyway, coming with a wordless shout that sent a shiver of pride through Q's overtaxed nerves.

"I love making you come," purred Q, twisting around to see Bond's face all soft and glowing with the aftermath of their shared pleasure.

Bond grinned. "The feeling is entirely mutual, I assure you," he said, pulling out carefully and disposing of the condom.

Q stood and stretched, then re-folded the towel to find a clean spot and tried to wipe himself up. "Hm, might need a flannel," he said.

"This'll do," said Bond, taking one of Q's kitchen towels and getting it warm and wet, then gently cleaning Q himself. Together they got everything straightened back up, and Q couldn't help but kissing Bond with a warmth he'd not thought he'd ever feel for one of his notorious Double-Oh agents.

"You, Mr. Bond, are trouble," said Q with a grin.

Bond laughed as he was meant to and kissed Q's nose. "As are you, Quartermaster. Let's have another cup of tea and then see if we can't finish up those books before dinner, yeah?"

Q kissed him one more time, then turned to fill the kettle. "Yeah, let's."

* * *

After the books were unboxed, Bond declared himself too dusty to be seen in public and there was another delay while they showered and exchanged lazy blowjobs. Q had sneakily washed Bond's clothes earlier, so he put the jeans and sinfully tight white t-shirt back on, with Q matching him in his own skinny jeans and slouchy, faded Sex Pistols shirt.

"All right," said Q, lacing up his Converse to complete the outfit, "Where shall we go eat that will seat us looking like the start of a terrible porno?"

Bond was surprised into a laugh. "A what?"

Q grinned. "Oh, come on, you're all decked out as the toppiest of tops, and here I am the little twink punk kid just waiting to be taught a lesson," he said. "Have you really not seen any of those films? Because there are really a lot of them."

Bond came over and kissed him. "I'm pretty sure I couldn't teach you a thing," he said, shaking his head. "As I recall, you laid yourself out over the kitchen counter."

"Hm, so I did," said Q, pulling him down for another kiss. "We could always subvert the trope, then, the apparent top is the bottom, the wicked twink has his way and all that."

"We did that, too," said Bond with a smirk. "So I guess we're dressed just right."

Q laughed delightedly. "I suppose we did." He stole one more kiss, then bent back down to finish tying his shoe, not so incidentally nosing at Bond's crotch on the way down. "That still doesn't answer the question of where to go for dinner."

"There's a pub over by mine that's pretty good," said Bond. "We could go eat there after I get something to wear tomorrow, if the invitation's still open."

Q beamed up at him. "Definitely open, I get to snoop and have another night of you. Both of these things are good."

Bond grinned and helped Q to stand. "Then that's what we'll do, let me get my bag," he said, and then spent a moment carefully packing his dirty clothes away, and leaving the rest where it had ended up, lube beside the bed and toothbrush in the bathroom.

Q felt very warm indeed at that, and rewarded Bond with a lingering kiss.

"Not that I mind, but what was that for?" asked Bond, shouldering the bag.

"That was for being amazing," said Q with a smirk. "Now, feed me."

"Now you sound like a kitten," replied Bond. "Come on, I bet they've even got fish for you, kitten."

"If I'm a kitten, you're one of those guard dogs that looks all fierce but is really a softie if you give him belly rubs," retorted Q. "I shall start calling you Spot."

Bond laughed, chatting happily as they headed downstairs. "Is that my new code name, Spot? Then you'd be, hm, Shadow, I think. You'd be one of those black kittens that disdains everyone but his chosen few."

"You like being my one of my chosen few," Q pointed out teasingly. 

"I really do," said Bond with a grin, kissing him just as the lift doors slid open.

They stopped to say hi to Ancel, and Q promised the big lorry would be gone tomorrow, which he seemed to appreciate nearly as much as the tip Bond palm-passed to him in a handshake. They walked to Bond's, the night warm enough that the few blocks really were a pleasure for Q, especially in the company of one of Britain's deadliest men. Bond's building was similar to Q's, as was most of the neighbourhood, and he had his own doorman to tip and introduce to Q. They shared the lift with another couple, so Q couldn't steal any more kisses, but he twined his fingers with Bond's and winked at him instead.

They got out near the top floor and Bond led Q to one of two doors in the corridor. "It's a bit of a mess, I haven't really settled since, well, you know."

"I know," said Q, kissing him softly. "I guess after you helped so much with mine, I'll have to come help with yours some weekend."

Bond beamed, opening the door, reaching in to flick on the light before gesturing Q inside. "It's not an abandoned manor on a Scottish moor, but it'll have to do."

Q stepped in and looked around, seeing signs of Bond everywhere among the scattered books and empty mugs, the comfortably old-fashioned furniture and the familiar ugly China bulldog on the mantel. Bond's peacoat hung in the hall closet, and there was a gun disassembled on a cloth on his coffee table, tools next to it to show he'd been doing some sort of repair. "I love it," said Q, turning to pull him into another kiss. "It's got you everywhere."

Bond relaxed and kissed him again. "It's a bachelor mess, but it's my mess."

"So, give me the tour and then tell me what's wrong with the gun?" asked Q, drawn as he always was to any ailing piece of equipment.

Bond chuckled. "Yes, of course you'd want that," he said, his tone very fond indeed. "Come on, I'll make you a cup of tea to sustain you."

Bond's flat was large, not just the big parlour but a modern kitchen, a dining room full of moving-in clutter, a small home gym, an office library that looked well-used, a guest room with its own bath, and finally Bond's big bedroom and big, inviting bed. His bathroom was also fairly impressive, though not as nice as Q's, but it was the bed that Q wanted to wallow in. "You are so going to have to have me in this sometime," he said, sitting on the edge primly and sipping his tea rather than flopping as he wanted.

Bond came over for a kiss, grinning wickedly. "Am I?"

"Or the other way around. Or both, should we find the time," said Q, keeping his posture though he did kiss back happily. "Assuming I get invited over to help you finish moving in."

Bond laughed and sat down beside him, arm around his waist. "If you're volunteering, I'd be an idiot not to accept," he said. He leaned in for another soft, sweet kiss. "Any or all of those offers sound amazing."

Q grinned and sipped his tea, then gave Bond another kiss. "Good," he said, bumping his shoulder against Bond's. "Go on, pack up one of those sharp suits so I can look at your gun and get fed."

Bond bumped back and got up, taking his overnight bag into his impressive walk-in closet to put the dirty things in the hamper and exchange them for a carefully-folded suit with all the appropriate accessories. He added a nice cashmere sweater over his jeans and t-shirt, then switched his work boots for proper dress shoes. Q just watched, admiring his economy of movement and the care he took with his clothes, the same care he'd taken with Q and all his possessions this weekend.

"All set?" asked Q, standing as Bond emerged into the main bedroom.

"Let me show you my poor ailing pistol," teased Bond, hand going to the small of Q's back.

Q allowed himself to be led out to the living room, where they sat together and talked about the problem with the gun, and Q deftly repaired it using a trick he'd learned in his own career. Bond gathered up teacups and started his dishwasher while Q worked, and Q had the weapon reassembled and laying next to its magazine as quick as could be.

Q's stomach growled just as he was setting it back on the cloth. "Do you want to bring this so you can test it on the range tomorrow?" asked Q, standing and stretching.

"Good idea," said Bond, and Q admired his arse while he bent to get a carrying case for it. That went into the overnight bag, and they were ready to hit the pub.

"Come on, Spot, kitty needs his tuna," said Q. They headed back out and tossed pet jokes back and forth as they went, teasing about walkies and treats, belly rubs and cat naps. "I let the cats out to explore, I hope they're all right," said Q as they headed inside the dim, cool interior of the pub.

"It was surprisingly nice having them to sleep with," said Bond with a grin. 

Q grinned back, letting Bond lead them to a seat. "I could say the same thing about you, you're much cuddlier than you let on." Bond's bag was safely tucked away under the table by their feet.

"Only with those I'm loyal to," said Bond wryly. "I knew you wouldn't try to murder me in my sleep, after all."

"Of course not," said Q. "I'd hate to get blood on the sheets."

The waitress came by and they ordered beer and fish and chips, and Bond added fried pickles and then Q insisted they'd want bread pudding for afters. Everything was fresh and good and greasy and perfect, and the bread pudding was rich and had quite a kick to the whiskey sauce. Q was feeling very warmly disposed toward Bond by the time they wandered out into the night and toward Q's flat.

"You know the best restaurants, I'm keeping you," said Q, leaning into Bond happily. He was flushed from one beer too many and humming from all the sugar, having eaten his entire serving of bread pudding and about half of Bond's.

Bond chuckled. "I see, you only love me because I feed you," he said, sounding amused and unfairly sober. "You really are a kitten."

"You like that my cats love you," pointed out Q. "You feed them whenever you can. You'd make them fat if I let you."

"You're drunk," said Bond, sounding both surprised and delighted. "No more alphabetising for you tonight, then."

"Straight to bed," said Q, managing something akin to a leer. "I want to lick you everywhere."

A man they were passing looked back at them, rather startled, and Q squinted until he went on his way. He seemed vaguely familiar, which meant more gossip, but Q had already decided that Bond's smiles were worth the gossip. Not to mention the food, and the sex, and the company.

It occurred to Q that he might possibly want to worry about how many things about Bond he was becoming fond of, but then Bond distracted him with a kiss and he forgot what he'd been worried about.

He was very fond of Bond's mouth.

"You can lick anything you like once we get you upstairs, my little Shadow," said Bond, looking smug to have remembered the nickname.

"Got to take my Spot for his walkies first," teased Q right back. "Though right now you're more like a, a service dog. Looking out for me while I'm impaired."

"You say the sweetest things," said Bond, and he sounded more sincere than Q had expected. "Though I'm not promising not to take advantage of you in this state."

"'Course you're not," said Q. "You're enjoying this immensely." They were walking steadily in the direction of Q's flat, he was fairly sure, and he hoped he'd remember the way later when he wanted to visit Bond.

"You're delightful when you're drunk," agreed Bond. "Speaking of unexpectedly cuddly."

"Nonsense," protested Q. "I'm always cuddly. Just ask my cats."

"You never did tell me what their names are," said Bond, steering Q gently around a light pole.

"Hm? Oh, the grey one is Hermione and the calico one is Luna," said Q. "I didn't want to tell you, 'cos you'd think I was maybe too much of a nerd."

Bond laughed and stopped just to kiss him, before resuming their forward momentum. Q could just make out the familiar glow of his building door with the night doorman standing out front. Bond saved him from stepping out on a red light and nearly getting hit by a lorry, which Q rewarded with kisses.

"I already knew how much of a nerd you are," reminded Bond, once they'd left off kissing and started across the street. "I think it's perfect, are they sisters?"

"Yeah, I actually adopted them from Q-branch when I first started working there, someone's cat had escaped and come home pregnant and there were just those two left," Q babbled, nodding to the night doorman and then flashing his key card when the man didn't seem to recognise him.

"Just making sure, sir, nothing personal," said the doorman.

"S'alright, we're just used to Ancel being used to us," said Q. He made puppy eyes at Bond, who chuckled and shook the man's hand.

"Q lives here, but I'm just his guest," said Bond. "I appreciate you keeping him secure."

The doorman tipped his cap and held the door, relaxing into a smile. "You two have a lovely night."

"You, too, well, as much as you can," said Q, letting James guide him to the lift and snuggling. "I wonder if he's the one Normington reports for doing his job."

"It did rather seem like he was once bitten, didn't it?" said Bond. "Well, I don't mind buttering up any of your doormen, I want them to let me in even when I look like I've been in a fight."

"You mean when you have been in a fight," pointed out Q. He fumbled with his keys, then sighed and handed them to Bond. "I'm sorry, I had no idea it would hit me this badly."

"It's adorable," Bond assured him. He unlocked the door and ushered Q in, proving he was paying attention by entering Q's alarm code as well.

"I should probably change that," said Q with a huff, "but it would only inconvenience me later."

"You mean when you want someone to lift more heavy things?" teased Bond, helping him out of his shoes once he'd toed off his own.

Q huffed and pouted. "We've had dates. This is more than manual labour now, aren't we friends at least?"

Bond slid up his body and pulled him into a kiss. "Hush, love, of course we are." He led Q back to the bedroom, where the cats had apparently finished exploring and gone back to the bed, if the lump in the middle was any indication.

"Cat," said Q, pointing.

Bond laughed. "Right," he said, sitting Q carefully on the edge of the bed. "Let me hang up my suit, and then we'll get naked and see about that promised drunk sex."

"It's not really drunk sex, you're not drunk at all," said Q. "I'd complain, but we'd never have made it to bed if you were as buzzed as I am."

A sweet kiss assured Q that Bond didn't mind at all, though he was grinning like he was trying really hard not to keep laughing at everything Q said. "I'm very happy to get a chance to see you like this, trust me," he said, taking his bag into Q's fancy new walk-in closet and putting his things out like they belonged there, suit hung and accessories down below. Then he stripped out of his clothes and stuck them in Q's hamper, and Q made a soft, greedy sound that he was going to pretend was about naked Bond and not naked Bond acting as though he lived there.

"I should be naked, too," said Q, fumbling at his own clothing. The t-shirt thwarted him by getting tangled in his arms and head and glasses, and he blinked owlishly up at a blurry Bond when he was rescued from his own folly. "I should be," he protested.

"I agree," said Bond, putting his glasses into the case on the bedside table where Q had stashed them last night. He plugged in his phone and then came over to retrieve Q's and plug that in beside it, putting Q's wallet and keys next to them for safe keeping.

Q started to flop back and then remembered the cats, so he lay back more carefully and poked at the lump. "You're going to have to move eventually," he told the cats, who mewed in protest.

A chuckle escaped Bond's control, and he came over to give Q a kiss. "We'll shoo them out when we get in," he assured him. His hands smoothed down over Q's body to his waistband, pausing to rub Q's belly like a kitten, an action which Q greatly approved of.

"Mm, good, then you can pet the right kitten," said Q, arching his hips up a little to remind Bond that they had a goal.

Bond kissed his belly affectionately and then got his trousers open, tugging them down along with his pants and putting them in the hamper with the shirt. "All right, ready for.. Oh."

Q sat up on one elbow, blinking at Bond. "Oh what?"

"Oh, you," said Bond, walking over to stroke up Q's thighs with the same possessive, whole-hand motion he'd used on Q's upper body. "You look amazing, Q, all flushed and spread and wanting me."

"Oh," said Q, cheeks heating even further than the flush of alcohol had warmed them. "You looked amazing before you stole my glasses," he offered.

Bond chuckled again and kissed his way up from Q's navel to his mouth, half-laying over him in order to manage it. "Let me get you in bed, kitten."

"And the other kittens sent off to nap elsewhere," said Q firmly. "They can come back when I've had your cock."

"Yes, they can," said Bond, biting his lip at Q's ridiculousness. He helped Q stand and then threw back the covers, which got him twin glares and then some leisurely feline stretching.

"Go on, off you fuck," said Q, making shooing motions. He let Bond settle him into the bed and spread his legs again, tilting his hips up. "And in you fuck, I want that tonight, is that okay? I promise to give it to you puppy-style next time to make up for it."

The cats made their way to the edge of the bed and off at just a slow enough pace to suggest it was their idea to get up right now, and Bond got in and snuggled up on top of Q. "We don't have to keep score," he said, kissing Q, "but I would love for you to get me on my hands and knees."

"Remind me of this excellent plan when I'm sober, then," said Q, pulling him down for another deep kiss. "A little fingering, please, but not too much. I want to feel you tomorrow and have everyone amazed that you're so good I'm sitting funny."

Bond cracked up, soft chuckles that shook his body as he pressed his forehead to Q's. "You are one of a kind, my Q," he said, pressing another kiss to Q's mouth.

"You like me this way," replied Q. "Lube?"

"Lube," said Bond, getting himself back under control. He grabbed the bottle and slid down Q's body, putting all of his considerable attention on the task of getting Q open just enough.

Q appreciated this attention loudly, too drunk to hold back on the mewls, whimpers, moans, and pleas that fell from his lips. It didn't take long with Q as excited as he was, and he wrapped himself around Bond when he finally slid home. Bond's kisses were as heady as the drink had been, and Q drank them in between his own gasps and howls of pleasure. Neither of them held back and it felt like far too soon when Q's frayed control broke completely. Bond rode him through his orgasm, Q bucking and clawing at his back.

"Beautiful kitten," said Bond, kissing Q thoroughly when his pleasure ran out and he went all limp beneath him. "It's a shame your claws are too short to leave a mark," he teased, shifting so he could thrust at a different angle, pressing his face into Q's neck. "Going to come, kitten."

"Yes, please, James," breathed Q, clinging to him, too wrung out to make his tired body do more than that to urge Bond along.

Bond didn't seem to mind one bit, and a few dozen more thrusts were enough to send him over the edge. "Such a good kitten," he said, once he caught his breath.

Q laughed. "Good puppy," he teased, drawing out the words. "Now clean me up so we can have our catnap."

Bond smirked and slipped out, sliding down Q's body to lick away the come smeared on his stomach and chest and sensitive cock. He lapped like a puppy all enthusiasm and ticklishness, making Q giggle and push at him. They ended the evening with that sense of play, Bond eventually getting a flannel and towel and disposing of the condom properly, making sure there wasn't enough of a wet spot to worry about and even turning off the lights before snuggling up with Q to sleep.

"Thank you," said Q, kissing him softly in the dark. "For all of it."

Q could feel Bond smile above him in the dark, and a kiss pressed into his hair. "I feel very welcome," he teased, but Q heard the sincerity hiding under his flippant tone. 

They drifted off to sleep tangled up together, with Q's alarm set early enough they'd have time for a shower and breakfast before heading to Six in their separate vehicles.

* * *

By the time Q finished dealing with the lorry and the paperwork in the motorpool, the gossip about himself and Bond had already had plenty of time to make the rounds. He'd texted up to Colin so there was tea waiting on his desk, along with several post-it notes and other completely unsubtle means of trying to warn him of his new title.

"As I have neither attempted to murder 007 nor acquired female genitalia in the past few days, please do refrain from calling me a 'Bond Girl,'" he said, loudly enough to be heard by the entire department. "And for the record, Bond is every bit as good in bed as his reputation would suggest, and you cannot have your own go at him until I'm done with him."

Q laughed when the room applauded. "Yes, yes, go on, I'm certain you've got work to do. Divya, I need to borrow you for a moment," said Q, taking a sip of his tea. The room quieted and people got back to work now that the gossip was a proud Q-branch fact instead of wild rumours and fiction

"You require my services, oh esteemed tamer of beasts?" said Divya, bringing her own coffee over to lean against his desk.

"Normington," said Q. Her face screwed up. "He apparently lives in my new building."

"Oh, you finally moved! Congratulations twice over, then," she said, and they clinked cups and drank.

"Thank you," said Q. "Bond helped, believe it or not. He was, and I quote, bored with no missions." He lowered his voice. "Normington needs to have some computer issues, and I need a recording of his reactions when he does."

"Oh," she said, as the other shoe dropped. "Right, yes, that is absolutely what I'll not be doing today, then, as soon as I finish the code dump for 008's mission tomorrow."

Q grinned. "I knew you'd understand, how's that coming along, anyway?' he asked, back to his normal voice. They chatted about work a few moments longer, and then she went back to her desk and Colin came over to swipe his empty teacup for a refill. Q dove back into his belated Monday routine and got things going, viciously deleting all emails inquiring about Bond except for Moneypenny's, to which he replied with the same information he'd given Q-branch, and M's, to which he replied that it was really none of M's business unless they filed relationship paperwork with HR.

Bond, for his part, made everything worse by slinking around Six with his tail between his legs, as if waiting for his own summons from M to be chastised for desecrating their Quartermaster. Q finally got tired of seeing Bond slouch past one of the cameras on the security monitors and got out his phone to text him.

> _Q-branch has been informed_  
>  _of your status as mine until_  
>  _further notice. Do stop_  
>  _acting like a kicked puppy,_  
>  _Spot._

Q hit send, then turned his attention back to his work, which in this case was an evaluation of the blind spots in their new security system. He actually thought Bond could give him a lot of insight into the problem, if only the man would stop sulking and come for a visit.

Q's phone beeped a few minutes later, and he grinned to see Bond's reply.

> _Yours until further notice?_  
>  _Do I get a collar and_  
>  _walkies now?_

Q checked the time and replied.

> _Only if you're taking me_  
>  _to lunch. Your kitten_  
>  _requires sustenance._

Q laughed at the swiftness of the reply.

> _Be right there._

Q put his phone away and finished his tea. "I'm going to take lunch," he said to Colin, preparing to close up his workstation.

The entire room stopped and stared.

Q huffed. "I do eat lunch sometimes."

"You eat lunch when I put food in front of you," corrected Colin. "You've gone out to lunch exactly once in my tenure as your assistant, and that took Moneypenny dragging you."

"Yes, well, fine, Bond is taking me to lunch," said Q, still somewhat offended, mostly because they were right.

Bond chose that moment to walk in, and for the second time that day all of Q-branch applauded. He froze and looked faintly stunned for barely half a second, then sauntered over to Q looking like he was king of the world. "Dare I ask?"

"You're taking him to lunch," said Colin, in tones usually reserved for exceptional feats of coding or marksmanship. "I mean, out. Out of Q-branch. For a meal during the work day."

Q glared. "Just for that I shouldn't bring you anything back." He finished shutting down his workstation and pocketed his phone, then slipped his arm through Bond's. "Take me away."

"I do enjoy taking you," said Bond with a wink, which made several jaws drop around Q-branch.

Q cracked up laughing, which rather spoiled the effect, and winked at Divya on the way out, letting Bond lead him to the lifts. "So, where are you dragging me to? Colin's the one that knows all the good takeaway, and we never eat out, as you observed."

"I know all the good places around here, not just by our flats," said Bond. "I thought maybe Thai?"

"Ooh, I like Thai," said Q, stepping out into the car park with Bond and immediately spotting his car. "This one has got to be yours."

Bond chuckled. "How'd you guess?" he teased, leading Q over to the passenger side and helping him into the Aston Martin. "Buckle up, kitten."

"Yes, dear," said Q, rolling his eyes and complying. 

Bond got in on the other side and drove them through security and out into the bright London afternoon.

"All right, this is officially weird," said Q, looking around. "I'm never out of here before dark."

Bond chuckled. "I'll have to make sure to take you to lunch more often, especially if it gets me on the good side of your minions."

"When you can, and I can, sure," said Q cheerfully. "Proper nutrition helps with energy levels, and I find myself motivated to keep those up for some reason."

"All that unpacking," said Bond, deadpan.

"And me just a weak little nerd," replied Q in the same dry tone.

The drive to the Thai place was short, and Bond knew a trick for finding parking, so they barely had time to do more than shoot a few more snarky comments back and forth before they were headed inside. There was a table all ready for them thanks to Bond calling ahead, and Q laughed to see a Thai iced tea already sitting in front of his place.

"Thank you so much," he said to the waiter, taking the spot and a huge sip of tea. "Oh, this is perfect."

"Your coffee'll be done soon," said the waiter, pointing to where two metal filters slowly dribbled coffee over cups of condensed milk.

"You're a wonder as always," said Bond charmingly as the man retreated, sitting in the other chair. "I can see I've found the way to your heart."

Q took another big sip and sat back, feeling the tea perking up his flagging system. "Oh, yes, sugar and caffeine are always a good bribe. Why d'you think I keep Colin even though he still can't file a proper Weapons Disposal Form?"

Bond nodded, checking on the coffees and then sitting back to let them finish dripping. "He'll learn the forms, though. That psychic way he has of bringing you tea before you can ask, that's irreplaceable."

"You're learning to please me in your own psychic ways," said Q, grinning. "Did you order the whole meal, or just these?"

Bond looked sheepish. "I usually just eat what they bring me, since I'm always here at odd hours."

"Such as late lunch," said Q, glancing around the half-full room. "It's still pretty busy in here given that it's already half two."

"It never really quiets down, but they seem to enjoy trying to surprise me. I've spent enough time in Thailand that nothing does, though, and this way I get some treats I can't find anywhere else." Bond was open, eager to share with Q, and Q couldn't help but be excited with him.

"I can't wait, then," he replied, taking another sip of the tea. "Did you order this, though?"

Bond laughed. "Yeah, I told them it was for two and they got all excited, and I made them promise you'd get a Thai tea."

"Thank you extra, then," said Q, leaning around the table to kiss him softly.

Bond actually blushed, just a tiny bit at the tips of his ears and along his cheekbones, and Q felt terribly smug. "You're welcome to share in all my treats, Q," he said, making his voice flirty and low.

"One treat at a time," Q shot back. His tea was nearly gone but there was coffee next, so he tried not to mourn it as he slurped up the last of it. "Oh, that was heavenly."

James laughed. "You are a delight," he said, stealing another kiss.

The waiter brought them a plate of some sort of appetiser, took Q's empty glass and told Bond, "You fix his coffee, I'll bring another tea in a few."

"Thanks," said James and Q in near-unison, which made the waiter smile and Q chuckle.

James checked the coffees and stirred one up with a little hot water from the provided pitcher and then slid it over to Q. "These are also heavenly."

"I trust you," said Q, stroking his fingers along the back of Bond's hand. The sound he made as the rich taste of coffee and milk hit his tongue was probably obscene, but he didn't care at all.

Bond looked insufferably smug, stirring up his own cup. "I take it you approve."

"You are bringing me here more," said Q. "You owe me at least two of these for every piece of equipment you lose, retroactive."

Bond protested laughingly, "Hey! Why retroactive?"

"More coffee for me," replied Q, taking another sip of the delightful drink. It was almost candy like this, creamy and sweet with caramel tones that smoothed out the darkness of the coffee. Bond had added just enough water to make it drinkable without losing any of its tongue-coating thickness. It was, in a word, perfect.

Bond relaxed. "Well, that's all right, then, but I'm limiting you to two per meal, so that's more dates for me."

"That, too," said Q with a wink. "I'll have Colin compile the stats for you to start working off, he's good at pulling up data for me." He pulled out his phone and texted Colin to do just that, adding that more lunches out were at stake. Colin texted back with undue enthusiasm. "The minions have decided they like you, apparently."

"I take it he's amenable to me caffeinating you?" asked Bond, not the least bit put out by Q's toying with his phone.

"Feeding me, caffeinating me, probably the sex, too," said Q with a smirk. He decided to make the coffee last a little longer and transferred a few of the mysterious appetisers onto his plate, giving one a nibble and lighting up. "Oh, it's some sort of stuffed chicken thing," he said delightedly. "Wow, this is tasty."

"They've never disappointed me yet," said Bond, taking some for himself and eating it with his fingers shamelessly. "Mm, yes, I love these." He said something in Thai, which Q presumed was the name of the food, but Q was too busy eating it to care what it was called.

Q ate a good portion of it before letting himself drink more of the heavenly coffee, and contemplated a life of treats from James Bond, of all people. "I'm going to miss you terribly next time you're out of town."

Bond grinned. "You can always feed yourself," he said. "I'm not telling Colin how to find this place, though."

"I can, but I never do," said Q with a sigh. "I just fill my desk full of sweets and sustain myself on sugar and caffeine, then crash with the cats when I get home."

"There's delivery groceries," said Bond. "And restaurants besides pizza that do delivery."

"That is my life, yes, though more the latter than the former." Q shrugged, stuffing his face with more of the chicken thing.

Bond reached out and brushed a crumb off his cheek rather indulgently. "Well, I'm happy to have you as my personal hobby when I'm in town. I've always wanted a kitten."

"You have three now," said Q with a chuckle. "Luna and Hermione like you best, you don't kick in your sleep."

"You don't kick," said Bond, brows knitting.

"Not when I've got you to cuddle, I don't," said Q. "When it's just me and the cats, I can never get comfortable."

Bond chuckled. "I wonder if they'd pout if I brought you to mine tonight, or revel in having the whole bed to themselves?"

"They'll pout," said Q, shooting Bond a sly grin. "But they'll live."

They polished off the chicken just in time for the second course to show up, a spicy coconut milk soup that was absolutely divine. Q was too busy eating it to even manage sarcasm for quite some time, though he did thank the waiter when a second iced tea showed up along with another pair of coffees doing their slow drip brew. He finished the first coffee and drank some water before allowing himself the luxury of the tea, which he felt like he could drink ten of, they were so sweet and smooth.

When he looked up, Bond was watching him with an odd, warm look on his face. Q wrinkled his nose and said, "What?"

"I don't think I've ever seen anyone enjoy food the way you do," said Bond, smiling. "And then I'm reminded of you enjoying other things, and I realise you're a complete hedonist."

"When I've got time to be, yep," agreed Q. "I'm not good at putting effort into my pleasures, but I enjoy them to the fullest when they're presented to me."

"I'll keep that in mind," Bond purred. Whatever he was going to say next was interrupted when his phone chirped, and he pulled it out and sighed. "Well, I'll keep that in mind after I get back from," he glanced around, "out of town. But we can finish lunch, it's not that urgent."

"I'm disappointed I won't get to test out your bed just yet," said Q, "but I'll be sure to leave some unpacking until you're back."

"As will I," said Bond, sighing. "This is the real reason I never got moved in, you know."

"I know, but you wouldn't have it any other way," said Q. "You love what you do."

Bond smirked, the smile half impish schoolboy, half grown-up pride, and all charm. "You know I do."

"Can I see where you're headed?" asked Q, and he read the quick, coded brief while eating the rest of his soup, then handed Bond's phone back. "I should be able to outfit you today, unless they've asked for something special."

"You never give me anything special," said Bond sulkily. "At work," he amended quickly.

"You never bring anything back, so you don't deserve anything special," said Q. He paused and added, "At work."

Bond laughed, and then their empty soup bowls were replaced with clean plates. The waiter brought fried fish in curry sauce over steamed vegetables on one plate, chicken and veg swimming in a bowl of yellow curry, and a big covered dish of rice for them both to share. They served everything up and talked while they ate about all the cuisines Bond had tried in their home countries, from Asia mostly, though he'd been all over the globe. If he hadn't been eating an amazing meal already, Bond's descriptions would have made Q very hungry, and for more than just food.

"Oh, wow, and dessert?" said Q delightedly, as plates of sticky coconut rice and fresh mango were placed in front of them, the empty dishes taken away. The waiter looked impressed that they'd managed to eat every last bite of the mains, including all the rice, and Q knew he'd be in a food coma later. He took one bite of the sticky rice and felt it was all worth it.

"Thank you," said Bond, looking amused. He followed up with something in Thai, which the waiter responded to in kind, and Q chose to ignore in favour of savouring the delightful sweet.

"You know all the best restaurants," said Q, once the waiter was gone and Bond had started in on his own treat. "How do you manage it when you're never in town?"

Bond chuckled. "Unlike you, I have a lot of free time when I am in town," he said. "Besides, I'm a bit older than you."

"Pish tosh," said Q. "I will concede the free time, though." He took another bite of perfectly ripe mango and sighed with happiness. "Food like this is worth making time for, I expect you to remind me I said so when you get back."

Bond grinned. "I will do so at every opportunity," he replied, eating another bite and looking very pleased with life.

They finished up and Q sighed forlornly when it was all gone. "All right, I can't possibly eat another bite and I'm certain you've somehow sneakily paid already, so let's go."

"I might have done," conceded Bond, wiping his mouth one last time and standing to offer Q his hand. "They do have one more thing for you, though."

Q stood, then looked to where the waiter was approaching with a to-go cup brimming with Thai tea, as well as a couple of boxes in a bag. "Oh, you do love me," he said, and then, "Thank you," to the waiter who handed it over with a grin. "Everything's been amazing."

"Enjoy your day," said the waiter, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Thank you," said Bond, voice full of innuendo as he put a hand in the small of Q's back and led him out to the car.

Q chuckled. "Don't let your mouth make promises neither of us has time to keep, Bond."

Bond sighed dramatically. "It's a tragedy that you're right," he said, opening the door for Q with a flourish. Bond took the other boxes, presumably the promised extra for Colin, and settled them safely in the trunk.

Q got in with a roll of his eyes and then had to juggle his drink in order to get his seatbelt buckled.

Bond solved this issue by taking it from him while he got buckled up, and revealing hidden cup holders. "I don't let just anyone drink in my car, you know."

"Oh, trust me, I know," said Q, settling in. "I'm happy to just leave that until we get there, I'd rather wait than wear it and owe you for detailing this leather."

Bond chuckled. "I knew I liked you for a reason."

"You like me for a lot of reasons," said Q, and this time it was his voice full of innuendo.

"All good ones," replied Bond with equal suggestiveness.

They flirted pointlessly for the rest of the short ride back to MI6, and it wasn't until they were about to part ways in the elevator that Q remembered his abandoned project. "Oh! Damn, I actually have something I want your help with."

"Lead the way, then," said Bond affably, clearly preferring Q-branch to M's office just at the moment. Q couldn't blame him; the minions had rallied around Bond as a champion of Q's well-being, whereas M was still likely having visions of broken hearts and Q burning the world in revenge.

Bond gave Colin his treat and got enthusiastic gratitude in response. Q assigned one of his other minions to gather up Bond's equipment, trusting in Moneypenny to make the travel arrangements, and brought up his security camera project. As predicted, Bond had already found a large number of holes in the system, and gave Q several good pointers on how to find the rest once he was gone. They worked well together, just as they had in Q's flat and did on missions, and Q lamented silently that he wouldn't get the same reward at the end of the day.

Moneypenny herself came down to deliver Bond's paperwork. "M wants to see you before you go," she said, giving Q an amused look.

"It had better be about the mission," said Q darkly. "My private life is none of M's business."

"As far as I know, it is," said Moneypenny, wary of Q's wrath.

"Ah, there's Divya with Bond's equipment," said Q, nodding to where the smaller woman was coming into Q-branch carrying a tray.

Divya came over and handed the tray to Q and whipped the cover off dramatically. "Your toys, 007."

Bond laughed delightedly. "Gun, radio, and...?"

Q sighed and nodded to the final item, a very expensive watch. "It does a few things, most of which you needn't interfere with, but if you get in a very tight spot you can set it to 7:07:07 and it will give you a small but powerfully directed explosive charge." Divya took back the tray so Q could show him how to point and anchor the charge, and then Q strapped the watch right onto Bond's wrist. "It sends me data, so please don't use it unless it's necessary."

"Not unless it's necessary, promise," said Bond admiring the way the fashionable accessory looked on his equally fashionable wrist. "The Omega's a good choice."

"I thought so," said Q tartly, putting Bond's gun and radio in their box and snapping it shut. "Standard rounds, and there's a short-range earwig and longer-range transmitter in there for the portion of your mission that requires direction from home."

"Will you be directing me, Q?" asked Bond, flirting shamelessly.

"If you're lucky," Q shot back with a little smirk. "Do try to bring all of her majesty's," he paused and glanced up and down Bond's body, "equipment back in one piece."

Bond laughed again and winked. "I'll let you inspect it personally," he said, then turned and let Moneypenny lead him away, handing off the papers while they walked.

"So," said Divya into the silent room, once the door had closed behind them, "you and Bond really are a thing, huh?"

Q looked smug. "I'm not sure what sort of a thing, or for how long, but yes, yes we are."

* * *

Q worked several very late nights to assure that Bond's mission went as smoothly as possible even with Bond involved. They exchanged flirty, snarky texts during several slow moments, and Q made a point of being the person on comms when Bond had to infiltrate the enemy. He also made an effort to go home on time that night in hopes he might see Bond when he returned, which got him a lot of yelling and then affection from Hermione and Luna, who never approved of his workaholic tendencies.

Q fell asleep in front of the telly, and woke to the sound of knocking. The room was filled with the violet of predawn, and Q jolted awake, worried there'd been an emergency. Silva was gone, but the idea he'd planted was still out there, the knowledge that MI6 could be made vulnerable, and it had left them all a little shaken. He got up, finding the gun he kept by the door, and leaned against the reinforced wall next to it. "Who is it?"

"It's Bond," said the familiar voice, and Q sagged. "Can I come in?"

Q laughed and opened the door, checking the gun over and putting it away while Bond came in and locked up behind himself. "Don't you have a key still?" asked Q.

"I didn't know if it extended to this sort of thing," said Bond with a shrug. "I figured if you were asleep, you'd never hear me knocking and I'd head back home without giving you all your treats."

"Us all?" said Q, following Bond into the kitchen with Luna and Hermione hot on his heels.

"I brought all my favourite kittens something," said Bond, sounding terribly pleased with himself.

"I'm glad you're here," said Q softly, moving in to kiss him. He kept it chaste, mindful of how awful his mouth tasted, and then moved past Bond to the fridge before it could become anything more. "I fell asleep on the couch," he said, grabbing a glass and filling it with cold water.

"Terrible for your neck," said Bond. He abandoned his bags of mystery in favour of kissing Q's neck, holding him from behind. "Do you want to go brush?"

Q laughed. "I'm transparent to you, aren't I? And yes, I really do," he said with a sigh. He drank another gulp, then set the glass down and gave Bond a peck on the cheek. "Be right back, love."

Bond beamed. "I'll get your treats ready," he promised.

It wasn't until he was rinsing away the toothpaste that Q realised what he'd said. What he'd implied, calling Bond, calling James 'love.' He spent a moment feeling confused that it didn't bother him more, and then he washed his face with cool water and promised himself he'd think about it more later.

"All minty fresh," said Q, slipping back into his kitchen with what he hoped was grace. "What have you got for us?"

"Well, they have some tuna," said Bond, pointing to where the kittens were happily devouring a small measure each of fish. "I found some resealable pouches, and it seemed perfect if they don't mind it out of the fridge later."

"If they do, I'll make tuna salad," said Q, finding a spot for both the opened pouch in the fridge, and the still-sealed ones in the cupboard with the cat food. "I can't believe you bought my cats tuna."

Bond chuckled. "I needed milk for my flat, which I did visit first," said Bond. "I know a good 24-hour place."

"Of course you do," said Q, leaning in for a longer, deeper kiss. "Thank you for spoiling them."

"I want to keep in their good graces," said Bond teasingly. "So far they've been good about not interrupting with claws in delicate places or badly-timed hairballs, and I'd like that to continue." He pulled Q close so their bodies were flush and then kissed him again with intent.

Q was nearly purring when he pulled away. "Are you my treat, Mr. Bond?"

"I'm the second part of your treat," Bond replied, sounding pleased that Q would think of him that way. "This is the first part." He reached into the bag and brought out a pastry box, opening it to reveal a pile of still-warm beignets sprinkled liberally with powdered sugar.

"Oh, wow," said Q, leaning in to inhale the warm fragrance. "Where did you find these?"

"That would be telling," said Bond, sounding smug. He checked the teapot and Q saw that there was fresh tea inside, brewed while Q had been busy in the bathroom. "I thought it was only fair to bring breakfast if I was going to wake you."

"You are welcome to wake me up any time you like for you and these," said Q. 

Q got down plates and cups, and they took everything over to the table so they could sit together and make less of a mess, though powdered sugar still got everywhere. Not that Q was complaining, since it meant he got to lick powdered sugar off Bond's neck later while he rode the man's cock. They curled up afterward, warm and sweaty and halfheartedly cleaned, both of them exhausted and pleasantly sated in several ways.

Q thought for a moment, then twisted around to turn off his alarm. "I can go in when we've had enough sleep," he said decisively.

"That's a good plan," said Bond, pulling him back into a warm embrace. "And more sex."

Q laughed and kissed him. "And second breakfast," he added, cuddling up again.

Bond's chest rumbled agreeably under his ear, and they both drifted off with Q wondering at what point he was no longer trying Bond out and had simply acquired him.

* * *

Q woke to the sound of his phone ringing insistently, and he answered it with no intention of leaving the warm bed. "What? I was there very late, I can sleep in."

"Do you have Bond there?" asked Eve.

"He won't talk to you," replied Q, which he felt was answer enough. "We both need sleep."

Eve chuckled. "He's not bleeding or anything?"

"Whole and hale," said Q. "He brought me beignets."

"Lucky boy," she said, and hung up.

Q chuckled and tossed his phone back on the bedside table, then snuggled back up to Bond. "Don't worry, just Eve making sure you didn't require medical intervention."

"Making sure you were well-shagged, you mean," said Bond. He started kissing his way down Q's body. "We should use this time wisely," he murmured into Q's abdomen.

Q couldn't hold in a giggle at the ticklish mix of warm breath and stubble. "Yes, go on," he said, his body already catching up with the program. "We'll have second breakfast later."

"This is just a nibble," said Bond, his voice distractingly low and rough from sleep. He put word to deed and used his teeth to nip at Q's stomach and thighs before mouthing more gently at his balls, a tease even half asleep.

Q spread his thighs obligingly and Bond curled between them and lapped at his balls like a puppy with a toy, enthusiastic and uninhibited. Bond lingered there until Q was nearly ready to beg for more, then moved up to swallow his cock in one smooth stroke. Q cried out, cock jerking in Bond's mouth, and Bond pulled back with a soft sound of satisfaction. He sucked Q back in, again and again, until Q had no willpower left and let go, coming in Bond's mouth with a shout.

Bond swallowed it all and then nuzzled his way back up for kisses, making sure to tickle Q's belly again on the way. Q was laughing and sated when Bond reached his mouth, and he wrapped his arms around Bond's neck and kissed him languidly.

"How would you like me to return the favour, love?" asked Q, feeling loose-limbed and eager to give Bond the same sort of pleasure.

Bond draped himself over Q, cock hard against Q's softening one, body warm and heavy and wonderful. "What's on offer, kitten?"

Q licked into his mouth for another deep kiss. "Whatever you like, though if you want my cock you'll have to wait a bit."

Bond chuckled, low and sexy with a bright tinge of happiness to the sound that sent a thrill through Q. "What if I want it just like this?" he purred, nibbling along Q's jaw and up to his ear. "Would you let me paint you in my come?"

Q grinned and nipped at Bond's ear. "Of course I would, puppy. Do you want to mark me as yours?" he asked, baring his neck to Bond's mouth. "Leave your claim where they can all see it?"

Bond let out a soft noise of pure desire and licked down to Q's neck, hips moving faster, rubbing his cock against Q's soft belly. Q shifted to give Bond a little more friction, stroking his hair and back, hands straying down to cup and knead his gorgeous arse. Bond's teeth sank into Q's neck with intent, leaving a proper love bite as he growled and came between them, coating them both liberally in his come.

Q moaned and pulled him up for a kiss, certain he'd have a livid mark to wear to work later that day. "Good boy," he said with a sexy, teasing grin.

Bond grinned right back, boyish and charming, those blue eyes full of warmth for Q. "Just the snack I needed," he said, giving a little wriggle and spreading the mess.

Q laughed. "You can't leave it like this, we'll stick together," he said, but he kissed Bond again anyway, revelling in this playful side of his lover.

"It's good for the skin," said Bond, giving another, more sensual slide of his front against Q's. "Very moisturising."

"I don't need to be protein-bonded to you, James," said Q with a laugh. "I'm certain this is already showing just fine." He pressed his fingers into the bruise on his neck, feeling the shape of Bond's teeth there, the tenderness of the skin, and getting a little zing of desire right to his balls.

Bond growled and kissed him again. "It's going to show above your collar," he warned, but Q could tell he was pleased.

"Well, yes, that was the point. It would be vexing if it didn't, though I suppose I could always make you do it again higher," said Q, trying for tart and sounding more like _a_ tart.

Bond laughed and kissed him, then peeled their already-sticky bodies apart. "Fine, fine, let's shower and have another nap?"

"Sounds good," said Q, following Bond to the bathroom for a decadent snog under the rain shower.

* * *

> _The Minions are staring._

Q texted Bond with an amused little grin on his face. They'd swanned in after a leisurely lie-in and lunch at the pub, Bond going up to check in with M while Q went down to see to his department. "Are there any questions for me?" asked Q, once Colin had provided him with tea.

"Did you let him do that?" asked Divya, sauntering over to get a better look at the livid love bite on Q's neck.

"Any questions about work?" Q amended tartly.

"Do you need me to start the HR forms?" asked Colin, eyes wide and pretending to innocence. "And will you need the HR 937-2 or 449-13D?"

"You can offer to Bond when he comes down for tea," said Q, baring his teeth in something like a grin.

Colin's innocent look faded and he paled just a little, but he gamely continued on. "I could fill them both out and let him pick which one to sign."

"I'm fairly certain he's not going to want the 449 just yet," said Q, amused. "I'd have noticed if he'd given me a big diamond to go with this." He pressed his fingers into the bruise for just a tiny second, feeling the zing of pleasurable pain and letting it calm his irritation. "So just the 937-2 for now, if you please."

Typing around the room intensified, which Q took to mean they'd all made an IRC chat room and were gossiping about him in semi-secret.

"Yes, sir," said Colin with a grin, heading over to his workstation to tackle the job with every evidence of approval.

"All right, what's the chat name?" said Q, catching one of the newer minions' eyes before they could all look away. "Out with it, or I'll just data-dump all your computers and send a list of violations to HR along with our 937-2."

A window popped up on Q's computer before he even finished talking, #007andQ with himself as a moderator, nickname HisSupremeOverlord. Q chuckled and shook his head, reading through the speculation and then impishly answering some theories but not others. He gave them all half an hour of idle gossip before kicking them all out and shutting it down, though he did save the log because it gave him a few interesting ideas for what to do with Bond next time they were in Q's bedroom.

Q had every intention of finding out how nice Bond's mattress was tonight, if M didn't send the man away again.

Q's phone beeped, evidence that Bond had either escaped M's clutches or gotten so bored he was texting in the meeting.

> _Approvingly, I trust?_

Q chuckled.

> _Colin has started our_  
>  _HR forms. I told him_  
>  _not to do the 449-13D_  
>  _just yet._

Q could practically hear Bond sputtering, though that presumed he knew his HR form numbers. Bond was cleverer about those things than he liked to let on, though, so Q wasn't surprised when the reply was swift.

> _Of course not, if I was_  
>  _planning for a 449, I'd_  
>  _use something nicer_  
>  _than beignets & love_  
>  _bites to propose._

Q laughed delightedly, getting suspicious looks from the minions he'd shooed back to work.

> _Good. I deserve a_  
>  _creative & memorable_  
>  _declaration. Though_  
>  _both beignets & love_  
>  _bite were appreciated._

Q forced himself to do a bit of real work before he looked at his phone again, spending ten minutes doing email triage while he resisted the reminder beeps.

> _I'll keep that in mind._

> _I mean, if I was to think_  
>  _of doing such a thing,_  
>  _I'd want to do it right._

> _Not that I have plans._  
>  _Or would object to_  
>  _having plans in the_  
>  _nebulous future._

Q pointedly did not laugh.

> _I was doing work, not_  
>  _sulking. Bring me a_  
>  _treat in a few hours_  
>  _to have with tea?_

The relieved reply came at once, and Q felt a touch guilty for leaving him unintentionally hanging.

> _Will do._

Q smiled and shook his head at himself, then cheekily sent one last message.

> _I don't have any photos_  
>  _of myself with no shirt to_  
>  _send as apology for_  
>  _making you worry._  
>  _Maybe later._

His phone beeped again a few minutes later, after Q had cut his way through another swath of email.

> _Don't let the minions_  
>  _know you're thinking_  
>  _of sending me nudes,_  
>  _they'll hack you just_  
>  _to prove they can._

Q laughed.

> _Probably right._  
>  _Speaking of, work_  
>  _beckons. See you_  
>  _later, Spot._

There wasn't an answer, but Q didn't mind. He let his mind wander to things he could do for Bond in bed to show the sincerity of his regard while his fingers kept sorting through email until he only had the important things he actually had to answer himself left. Then he pushed it out of his mind and got to the real work, secure in the knowledge that Bond of all people understood that sometimes, work came first.

He was deep in a coding project, debugging a persistent issue for Rayan, when a warm hand brushed the small of his back and the scent of cinnamon and sugar penetrated his senses. "Colin, tea?" said Q, turning to press a kiss to Bond's mouth.

"On it!" said Colin, already halfway to the kitchenette.

Bond was lit up like the sun when Q pulled away and looked at his face. "So, filing forms today, are we?" he asked.

"I thought it prudent," said Q. "Colin's got them done, I think... Did you get cinnamon rolls for my entire department?" His eyes had drifted down to the stack of pastry boxes balanced on the equipment table next to Q's desk that was usually reserved for handing out guns.

"Of course I did," said Bond. "You've no idea how much the bonus is for being declared dead by accident." He was smirking and very proud of himself.

Minions were beginning to drift in their direction, drawn by the promise of sugar.

"Have you all saved your progress?" asked Q.

"Yes, Q," came the ragged chorus of singsong replies.

"All right, then, tea breaks all around. I get dibs," Q said, giving in to the inevitable. He and Bond began to open and go through the boxes, Colin appearing with paper plates for everyone just in time for Q to choose the biggest, most frosting-covered roll out of the lot. There were a variety of them, including a single roll marked gluten free for poor Divya, though Bond also took one of the fluffy frosted ones.

"You actually brought me my own," Divya said, looking suspiciously at Bond as he handed her the small box, which was slightly sticky for having been tucked into a larger one. "Are you planning to murder us?"

Bond laughed. "I texted Colin," he said. "That's why there's not just six boxes of the ones Q likes best."

"I don't know how you got my number," said Colin, taking a small bite of the glazed, nut-covered roll he'd taken, "but I don't even care, oh my fucking, mm."

Bond chuckled but neglected to provide any further information, though really it was hardly a surprise to Q. The man was a spy, after all, and the rest of them might work in espionage but they were still basically trusting nerds who forgot to lock their workstations some nights. 

"You're lucky you have clearance for nearly anything you could get up to in here," teased Q, taking a huge bite of his own treat. He moaned in pure joy at the mix of cinnamon and spices, plump raisins embedded between the layers that had been soaked in just a touch of rum, and warm dough that was soft and perfectly chewy. "Wow, okay, you are so getting something special tonight."

Bond's slightly stunned expression was worth every bit of teasing he'd get about it later.

* * *

"So," Q purred, snuggling up behind Bond as he unlocked his front door, "I believe I owe you some puppy-style." They'd gone by Q's first to feed the cats and give them a good petting, Bond packing an overnight bag for him while Q made sure everything would be fine without him overnight.

Bond went still for just a moment, then finally got the door unlocked and tugged Q inside. He paused for only as long as it took to disarm his alarm before pushing Q up against the door and kissing him greedily. "I believe you did," he said, voice rough. "But I'm fairly sure I've got to feed you first."

Q hmphed. "Sex first, then takeaway, then more sex?" he proposed, grinding up against Bond to help show the logic of his alternative solution.

Bond chuckled and kissed him again. "I'll want to sleep after puppy-style, so let's just suck each other in my big bed first?" he asked.

"Counter-proposal accepted," said Q with a smirk. "I always knew you could negotiate if you put your mind to it."

"You offer better terms than most," said Bond, kissing him greedily. He pulled away and started tugging Q toward the bedroom. His flat was cleaner than before but still had the same feeling of Bond in it, spare but stylish with just the touches he required.

Once there, Bond tossed Q's bag into the closet and pressed him down onto the bed, divesting them of their clothing with a mix of tender care and wanton impatience that Q found very appealing. He pulled Q into his arms, tucking them into the warm, soft bed, and whispered, "You filed a 937-2 with me."

Q's breath caught at the wonder in his voice. "Now everyone knows you're mine," said Q, not even trying to keep the possessive fondness out of his tone.

Bond growled and kissed him again, passionate enough to make Q whimper. Q's brain stuttered but his body was still with the plan, cock hard and painting wet trails against Bond's stomach that were a match for the ones Bond was making on Q's. They kissed and kissed like there was nothing better in the world, until Q finally broke away and slid down under the covers, wanting to have the taste of this part of Bond on his tongue as well. He filled his senses with Bond, with James, mouth full of the shape and weight of him, surrounded by the heat and scent of him in the warm, private space. He could hear Bond panting above him, moaning, and Q kept his eyes shut so he could remember the look on Bond's face when Q kissed him in front of the entirety of Q-branch.

Q didn't know what Bond was thinking about, but whatever it was was enough to urge him toward the threshold faster than usual. It took a flatteringly short amount of time before Bond was tugging at his hair and swearing, and then filling his mouth with bitter, thick come. Q swallowed it like it was ambrosia, and moved up for another of those heady, endless kisses. "You signed the form," he said, half surprised at the note of wonder in his own tone. "Right in front of everyone."

"Now they all know you're mine," said Bond, eyes dark. He kissed Q again and slid down his body, hiding in the same warm space Q had just occupied, and Q knew he wouldn't last any longer than Bond had.

Bond's mouth was as talented as ever, heat and suction and his tongue teasing in ways that made Q's breathing hitch and stutter. Q didn't bother to hold back, though he did warn Bond in his own half-garbled way before spilling himself into that wicked, perfect mouth. Their kisses after were bitter and strange, and Q thought he'd never tasted anything better.

* * *

Bond insisted they brush their teeth after the searingly hot curry that Q had eaten for dinner while sitting on his sofa in nothing but a pair of Bond's loose boxers. They'd talked about inconsequential things as they ate, a small sharing of their days instead of the bigger things they'd covered before. It spoke of a familiarity that made Q happy to his bones, that he of all people was allowed to hear Bond complain about the copiers in accounting like a normal person in one breath, and the sticky firing pin on one of the practice Walthers on the firing range in the next. Q made a mental note to make sure both things got serviced and told Bond in turn about the newbie who'd been foolish enough to try to sneak a snack out of Q's drawer, and was now doing phone support as penance.

They tumbled into bed all minty-fresh and laughing over nothing, Q's chest full of the sheer joy of wanting and having and knowing Bond wasn't going to drop him like a hot rock for the new girl in information processing. They'd brought a fresh towel to lay down on the bed, and Q urged Bond to lay on his front on top of it. "I'll pull you up on your knees when it's time, Spot, never fear."

Bond chuckled and twisted for one more kiss. "I never worry you won't take care of me, kitten."

Q kissed him deeply and stroked down his back. "Good," he said, then kissed down his spine, hands reaching for the lube. 

Bond opened easily for one and then two of Q's slender fingers, moaning when Q licked around the place they were joined. His body held a wonderful tension, shivers of anticipation running through his muscles as Q got him loose and wet, adding more lube and a third finger before deciding neither of them could wait another moment. He pulled his fingers out and then helped Bond up onto his hands and knees, kissing him deeply. "You're such a good puppy for me, James."

Bond groaned, hips bucking once, back arched wantonly. "Christ, Q, what you do to me."

"I'll be doing more in a moment," teased Q. He got the condom on and slicked, then stole one last kiss before getting behind Bond and pushing inside. Bond was hot and tight but Q slipped in easily enough, eagerness and lubricant easing the way. Q let out a moan that Bond echoed, and he leaned down to lick up Bond's spine while they both got used to how it felt to have Q buried so very deeply inside Bond's body.

"If you don't move soon, I'm going to go mad," said Bond, bucking his hips with a puppyish whine of need.

"Just trying not to come too fast," Q replied, giving Bond's shoulder a nip. "You've no idea how amazing you feel like this." He knelt back up and started moving, hands holding Bond's hips so Q could drive into him with the force they both craved, thrusting hard and going deep every time. "James, my James."

Bond whined again, shifting down to his elbows to better brace himself against Q's thrusts. Q adjusted his own angle to match, wanting Bond to come for him just like this, hoping he could give him all the pleasure he deserved. Bond's whines turned to moans and he rutted back wantonly, taking every bit of pleasure Q could give him and more. They both grew breathless and sweaty, panting in sync with each other, the air driven out of their lungs at the height of each thrust and dragged back in as Q's cock pulled out.

Q felt a wave of pride and affection as Bond's movements grew erratic, remembering how reluctant Bond had been to ask for this, at first, and feeling how good it was for him now. "That's it, yes, come, come for me, James, please, puppy, come," he babbled out, his own orgasm barely held back.

James' whole body bucked and stiffened and he came, tightening around Q as he spilled himself onto the towel below. Q let go a few seconds later, hips still pumping as they both found their pleasure in each other.

Bond collapsed onto his side, Q's cock slipping out as he curled up, messy and fucked out and blinking up at Q with sleepy blue eyes. "S'good?"

"Very good," said Q, leaning down to kiss him. He took a moment to clean them both up and dispose of the towel and condom both, Bond dozing off while he did. Bond was loose-limbed and pliant as Q got them settled under the covers, lights off and James tucked into his arms. "Sweet dreams, love."

"M'not asleep," said James, yawning hugely. He was so sweet like this, so different from the cold killer or charming man of mystery. This was a James no one got to see but Q, and Q intended to keep him for a good long time.

Q leaned down and kissed him, settling them a little better so James wouldn't feel trapped by his embrace, warm and cosy between James' fine sheets. "I really like this bed," he said, unable to stop grinning.

Bond returned the grin, just a touch shy. "Well, if we ever do file a 449, we'll be sure to keep it."

Q kissed him again, feeling warm contentment settle over him. "Yeah, we will."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm amysnotdeadyet on tumblr -- this is not meant to be a mystery, sorry! Come say hi.


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